Maybe One More Time
by cakeisatruth
Summary: Sara's exercise routine needs work. Cora helps her out. One-sided Cora/Sara.


The bass thrummed so heavily through Sara's headphones, she swore she could feel her teeth vibrating, and somehow it _still_ didn't block out background noise. All that money spent on building the _Hyperion_ , but they couldn't manage to give it good soundproofing. And these floors - ugh. She grimaced, wriggling into a more comfortable position as her chest heaved with the aftereffects of a set of crunches.

Scott had laughed when she'd whined about it - _"We're gonna be pioneers, sis. Discomfort's part of the experience"_ \- and, yeah, he was right and all, but it didn't make things feel any realer than they had before. Still felt like it'd never sink in that seven weeks from now, they'd be popsicles on their way to Andromeda, and all of this would be gone. Everything except the _Hyperion_ , anyway. Better to get used to its setup now, and make at least a tiny part of the journey more manageable.

A pair of fingers tapped her on the shoulder, and she tipped her head back reflexively. "Hey," the recon specialist managed unsteadily, giving her father's second-in-command an upside-down grin. Of the people she'd been hoping to impress, Cora was pretty high on the list, and only mostly because of rank. They'd exchanged only a handful of words here and there before, but each time had left Sara distinctly feeling like she'd made an idiot of herself.

"Hey." Oblivious to her thoughts, Cora offered a smile, seeing Sara pull her headphones away from one ear. "Your dad around? I was supposed to meet him, but he didn't get more specific than 'Habitation Deck.'"

The younger woman shrugged, twisting to sit up. "No idea. Did you try his room?"

"He wasn't in." Cora was already flicking open her omnitool. "I'll shoot him a text. Sorry to interrupt."

Something about it sounded just this side of embarrassing to Sara's ears. Laying around on the floor covered in sweat wasn't a great way to make an impression, never mind that _of course_ she had decided to wear the damn Blasto shirt today. That was exactly the picture she needed to paint of herself - the Pathfinder's daughter, an overgrown kid.

With a grimace, she maneuvered into a push-up position, then summoned her biotics. The Alliance never liked anyone "using dark energy to cheat" during regular PT, but that wouldn't matter in seven weeks, and it was just so satisfying. Feeling the amp and the muscles working in sync, supporting each other, each part demanding a certain fine control - a person got hooked on it.

Gave a nice show, too, if the reactions Scott got were anything to go by. He could do a few reps at a machine on the gym and have women falling all over him, the lucky jerk. Aiming a scowl at the floor beneath her hands, Sara upped her pace, the tingle of summoned flares urging her on. She'd probably fare better with dating in Andromeda, right? Yeah, smaller dating pool, and they'd need to repopulate one day, meaning -

A dull thunk sounded, jarring her out of her thoughts, as Cora leaned heavily against the wall next to her. "Okay. I can't watch this anymore."

"I - " Sara fumbled her headphones down around her neck, shutting off the music almost as an afterthought. "You were watching me?" And, okay, maybe that was what she'd sort of hoped would happen (more than _sort of_ , really), but now it was actually going on and, God, what was she supposed to do next?

Cora grinned, clearly barely suppressing a laugh. She held out a hand and, using it to gesture loosely, explained, "Biotics in push-ups are for cushioning your downstroke. _You're_ using them to try and move yourself _up_. Saw more than one of my training unit strain their shoulders that way."

"Oh," was all the specialist could manage, hoping the flush in her cheeks would be mistaken for exertion. Hands there, grip with her toes, summon biotic energy on the downstroke, and - _damn_ , wasn't that just typical Sara Ryder. Start feeling like something was worth showing off only to find out it was awful.

Actually, on the subject of awful, this was wrenching her back worse than forgoing biotics altogether. She was considering doing just that when Cora spoke up again.

"You should be trying for more 'springboard' than 'pulley system.' Lets you keep your momentum, and - wait." She frowned, chewing at the inside of her cheek, and moved to her knees. "Here. Watch me."

Sara nodded, abandoning the exercise so she could sit down and watch. Dad had mentioned a while back that his second was biotic, but she'd never actually seen evidence of it. Now, though, the sharp pulses of blue were offering plenty of proof. She only had a moment to consider them before Cora was moving and - oh. _Oh_.

"Springboard" wasn't a bad description; it was like she was bouncing off an invisible trampoline, clapping her hands on each upstroke. But, God, trying to focus on the biotics involved was a lost cause. Even with clothes in the way, Sara could see the flex of muscles working together like a well-oiled machine, pulling and curling in rhythm. And then Cora's shirt was riding up and, nope, there was no way she could keep her eyes on anything but that strip of newly-exposed skin, suppressing the urge to reach out and touch. No. Not going to do anything else stupid right now, thank you very much.

With a satisfied noise, Cora settled back on her heels, looking expectant. "There. That help?"

 _Don't stare. Don't stare._ "I - uhm." Sara unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth. "Are you an L2? Those spikes…"

It was the wrong thing to say, evidently. The lieutenant grimaced, swiping her fingers through her hair. "I know. They're - I'd prefer if you didn't go spreading that around." She got to her feet. "Anyway, try it out."

Any excuse to stop talking was welcome at this point. Ducking her head, Sara did her best to mimic what she'd been watching. It took a few reps to find the sweet spot, but once she adjusted, it was like a weight off her chest. (Well, off her arms and onto her amp, but - technicalities, technicalities.) "Wow," she mumbled aloud, grinning at the floor.

"Thought so." Cora's eyes were on her omni, probably checking for any response to her text, though she looked undeniably pleased. Sara had to keep herself from smiling too widely as she sat back and grabbed her water bottle.

Closing the display with a slap on her wrist, the older woman glanced up, eyebrows arching. "You need to be somewhere, or do you have another five minutes?"

Sara inhaled sharply, almost choking on water, and had to cough for a good thirty seconds or so before she could answer. "Sure. Uh-huh," she managed. "What is it?"

If Cora noticed how flustered she was, she didn't show it. "Was hoping I could see your pull-up technique. I'm guessing you do the same 'pushing instead of cushioning' thing."

"Yeah," Sara admitted, turning to the bars on the next wall. No, this was an awful idea. If she had to watch an attractive woman do pull-ups, especially in front of a mirror, she might actually die. Or come on the spot. She couldn't decide which would be worse.

"Which means all that energy's focused here." Cora was behind her now, so they could both see themselves in the mirror, her hands gripping Sara's hips and - forget having to watch anyone else work out, she was going to expire just from this. "You want to try and put it more around here - " Now she was going for the shoulder blades, sending a warmth down the recon specialist's spine that had nothing to do with exercising. " - and mostly on the downstroke, just like before."

"Okay," Sara squeaked, barely waiting for Cora to step back before she jumped up (and nearly kicked the other woman in the face as a result). Her heart pounded in her throat, biotics pulsing unsteadily as she tried to follow directions.

If finding the right intensity and rhythm was difficult, keeping her eyes from wandering was impossible. Her form could have been perfect or it could have been hideous, but it was the last thing on her mind. Cora had moved out of the way, but not far enough that her reflection wasn't visible. She'd fallen into parade rest, probably out of habit, which - while not suggestive by any means - didn't leave too much to the imagination in those clothes. _God, I'm such a wreck._

They were clearly not of the same mind. When Cora caught her junior's eye in the mirror, she tapped the side of her head, looking almost sheepish. "L3-R, since you were asking. They don't want L2s on the Initiative if they can help it. Too unstable."

"Ah…huh." It was probably a good thing exertion kept her from saying too much more. A person could only stand making a fool of herself so many times in one day.

She had to drop after the seventh pull-up - a respectable number, even if it wasn't her best - and stretch her aching fingers. Cora had retrieved the half-full water bottle from the floor, and now she handed it over, nodding in approval.

"Thanks." Sara popped it open, speaking between pants for air. "And…thanks for the tips. They helped a lot."

"I'm glad to hear it." Cora clasped her hands behind her back. "Wouldn't want any of the Pathfinder team hurt before we even get to Andromeda."

"That'd be embarrassing." She rubbed the back of her neck, and drained the bottle in two gulps. "Um, if you ever need me to spot you or something…"

Cora didn't laugh, even though she probably had every reason to, but she did smile. "You could put in a good word or two with your dad for me."

"Sure," Sara answered automatically, setting the bottle aside so she could retie her ponytail. "But he already thinks you're pretty great."

The lieutenant arched a brow. "He can be hard to read. It's an honor to train under him, though."

"Trust me, he thinks you're a great second-in-command. And, um…" Would bringing it up again be a bad idea? She couldn't know until she tried. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad about your biotics. They're actually really cool. Perfectly honed like that."

Cora shrugged, smiling modestly at the floor. "You're not bad yourself."

"Well, I usually - "

"Harper?" When the door had opened, Sara had no idea, but now her father was leaning into the room none-too-patiently. "There you are. Good to go?"

"Yes, sir." Cora turned on her heel, tossing a smile over her shoulder as she went. "Anyway, see you around."

"Yeah, see you," Sara echoed, gaze lingering a little too long before father and daughter locked eyes. "Uh. Hi."

His expression was unreadable, as per usual, but he did offer her a slight nod. "Staying sharp, Sara?"

"You bet." She flashed him a thumbs-up. Sometimes, there were advantages to having a leader who refused to play favorites.

The door shut behind them, and Sara turned to grab her street clothes, shaking her head as if to clear it. After getting out of here, her first order of business would need to involve a _really_ cold shower...


End file.
